


Pancakes

by kikitheslayer



Category: Psych
Genre: Banter, F/M, Kissing, Missing Scene, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 11:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4390439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikitheslayer/pseuds/kikitheslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can act a little crazy when you're worried. Set during "Someone's Got a Woody".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes

“O’hara, get me Spencer.” 

The words echoed in her brain as she walked to Shawn and Gus’ holding cell. She clutched the keys until her fingers turned white.

She stopped in front of the cell where the two were arguing, half-beards still glued to their faces.

“Guys?” she said. 

They turned. “Hi, Jules,” Shawn said. He turned back to Gus, and in a low voice said, “See man, we got a girl…” 

“...On the inside,” finished Gus.

Juliet smiled, but it faded as she said, “Trout wants you to two to go negotiate with the guy who has Woody.”

“What?” cried Shawn. “That’s awesome!”

“What made him change his mind?” asked Gus.

“Cyrus - that’s the kidnapper - asked for you. Woody must have told him.”

Shawn fidgeted. “Jules, any chance you could get us out of here? It smells like someone… came in here after murdering someone and then murdered someone else and died.”

Juliet unlocked the cell and snorted. “Pretty sure that’s happened,” she said, as she swung the door open.

\---

“Here!” Trout thrust a plate of cheese and grapes into Shawn’s hands. The room was filled with people since the building had gone into lockdown. They focused on Trout’s yelling, most looking on in a sort of morbid fascination. 

“I didn’t want you involved,” he continued, addressing the whole room. “I want that made very clear. But your idiotic coroner couldn’t keep his trap shut. Now, you got one shot or I’m taking control of this investigation. You two idiots had better deliver.”

Shawn, however, was ignoring him. His hand was held above his head. “Now, now, everyone,” he said. “While it is obviously impressive that we were asked for -”

“Specifically,” interjected Gus.

Shawn pointed at him. “Let’s remember that this isn’t about us, or how epic we are at handling situations like this. It’s about Woody. Let’s all remember that.” Shawn turned to Trout. “No hard feelings, okay, man?”

He turned to walk away with Gus, who was eating a grape off the plate, but a voice behind him stopped him.

“Shawn,” said Juliet. 

He turned. “Yeah?”

She stepped forward and grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, causing him to stumble the final few steps down and into her. Gus grabbed the cheese plate out of his hands just in time for him to cup her face in his hands, rough skin on soft. She ran her hands through his hair, as she pressed her lips to his and tried to say what she’d been thinking since she had been asked to fetch him. 

A few seconds later they released, but she stayed close to him for a moment and whispered, “Be careful.” She only then stepped back, a hand instinctively rushing to her pulled-back hair. She carefully kept her eyes trained in front of her, and not at the faces of the rest of the police station’s staff. 

Shawn, for his part, stood and grinned widely. “Well! I’m going to catch a kidnapper. Gus?”

The two walked off as Trout muttered, “It’s like no one in this damn place listens to me…!”

\---

“Oh my god, Shawn,” Juliet said. She was standing in the SBPD lobby. She had reapplied her lip-gloss but only when she saw him did she appear to be okay. Her mouth fell open with relief as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You need to stop getting into hostage situations,” she said softly.

“Mm,” he held her for a moment, his face in her peach-scented hair, before letting her go.

She awkwardly looked at Gus, giving him a quick hug as well.

She stepped back and began leading them down the hall. “Um, Cyrus’ wife and parole officer are here,” she said.

“I’m going to make you pancakes,” said Shawn suddenly. “When all this is over. We’re gonna have breakfast, and they’re going to be cinnamon-y and shaped like farm animals.”

She fell into step next to him. “Will there be whipped cream?” she asked.

“You bet your ass there’ll be whipped cream,” he laughed, wrapping one arm over her shoulders. “It’s gonna like a mountain, but warm and made of sugar.”

She smiled and leaned up to peck him on his jaw.


End file.
